Once upon a time, on a bright, blue-skied Saturday morning in Homer, Alaska, I sat at a picnic bench in front of a charming little seafood truck famous in town for slinging many varieties of chowders and fritters. I perused the handwritten menu that was tacked to the truck, itself adorned with merpeople and little homages to Alaska, and I mulled over which plate of wonders was going to serve as my next meal.
When a lanky gentleman with a long white beard and matching head of hair rolled up in an old black Mustang truck. "Good morning!" he saluted with a drawl, his boots stomping toward the food truck, himself carrying the assurance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Without pause, he ordered the yelloweye, a species I'd never heard of before. The glint in his eye told me that he had driven all the way to this spot with the sole purpose of consuming that very fish.
Here I was thinking that I had tasted all that the Alaskan waters had to offer — multiple types of salmon; Pacific halibut fillets, steaks and cheeks; Pacific cod, lingcod, weathervane scallops, snow crab, dungies and even red king crab — but this yelloweye was a novelty. So, with equal parts curiosity and gastronomical FOMO (fear of missing out), I went ahead and ordered it, too.
A few moments later, with baskets of freshly fried yelloweye before us, the white-beard Mustang man and I sat across from one another at the picnic table, each of us holding a certain contentment to behold the other one about to enjoy what I'd quickly discover to be one of the most delicious species of fish there is to eat. "Breakfast of champions, innit?" the man asked after his first bite. But it wasn't a question. He knew that I knew what he knew.
Meaty, but not steaky like, say, Pacific halibut. Flakey, but with just enough structural integrity that each bite holds together well. Mild, but not without a distinct flavor of its own — which I'd describe as sweet and delicate with just a hint of nuttiness. These were just some of the thoughts that went through my mind as I gobbled up that basket of yelloweye, which I’d later learn is in the family of rockfish.
I was already a fan of lingcod and Pacific halibut, some of Alaska's white fish superstars. And Pacific cod and Wild Alaska Pollock were also often in my rotation, for their mild flavors and ease of prep. But now I had yelloweye, my new favorite white fish fit for a craveable feast. With this excitement, I'm thrilled to inform you that we are now offering yelloweye rockfish as a member special: two six ounce packs for $24.99.
And on the subject of craveable feasts, here are three yelloweye rockfish recipes to rock with this fall.
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Panko Crusted Yelloweye with Sun Dried Tomato Pesto — The yelloweye shines here in this lovely mingle of crispy texture and robust flavor
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Lemony Yelloweye with Caper Sauce — Zesty and briny, a classic profile to spotlight the innate flavor of the yelloweye
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Seared Yelloweye with Brothy Butter Beans — Earthy, cozy and heartwarming, this is could very well become your autumnal go-to
Hope you love this Alaskan delica-sea as much as I do!
Live Wild,
Monica
P.S. We’re very excited to be nominated for USA Today’s 2023 Reader’s Choice Award for Best Meat Delivery Service. As a member, we’d love your support to help us win! You can vote for us up to once a day at this link.
Pictured above: A flakey, perfectly seared fillet of yelloweye served atop a bowl of brothy, fragrant butter beans.
